


Long Road Home

by 3BeesAndCoffee3



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Natasha Romanov, College, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Gay Steve Rogers, Internalized Homophobia, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, No one is straight lmao, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Secret Crush, Smoking, Steve Rogers Feels, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 19:48:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3BeesAndCoffee3/pseuds/3BeesAndCoffee3
Summary: Steve has known Bucky for nearly as long as he can remember. They were inseparable the day they met, already clinging to each other’s arms on the playground during recess and waiting together for the bus. None of that changed as time went on, either. Steve had a few falling out’s with friends, some ended worse than others, but Bucky remained the same, securely at his side.why does everything good have to change?





	Long Road Home

Steve has known Bucky for nearly as long as he can remember. They were inseparable the day they met, already clinging to each other’s arms on the playground during recess and waiting together for the bus. None of that changed as time went on, either. Steve had a few falling out’s with friends, some ended worse than others, but Bucky remained the same, securely at his side. 

Bucky became such a constant piece of his life, all through his teenage years, in school and out, that Steve had assumed Bucky would always have a permanent place in his life. Their senior year of high school, of course, turned that idea on its head.

Everyone was changing, everything was changing, and Steve had never liked change. The people he’d known his whole life had plans, plans that involved big careers and schools across states or even out of country. One of Steve and Bucky’s closer friends, Nat, who had gone to a private girls school most of her life, was planning to get a career in business, finances or something, Steve couldn’t recall; she would be moving across the country, to study abroad, learn more and expand on a passion. It was a weird thought, that they wouldn’t see her on the weekends anymore or see her working at the diner on fifth street.

Steve’s passion could never be a job, of course. He needed finances, he needed to be passionate about something that would bring in money and stability, like law, not art. Art wouldn’t get him anywhere. So here he was, feeling oddly like everyone else around him was taking off at stunning rates, and he didn’t even know where to begin. 

If Bucky had thought about college, or any jobs or passions at all in a serious manner, Steve hadn’t heard about it. That wasn’t too surprisingly, though. As close as Steve and Bucky were, Bucky remained a very quiet person, very personal and not at all self indulgent. 

Bucky played video games religiously and smoked a pack of cigarettes a day, but none of those could be classified as having any ambition behind them. The only thing Steve could ever see Bucky doing with that was being a test subject for how quickly someone could develop lung cancer.

But no, Bucky never spoke about college or moving away, and that thought had left Steve with some ease, that at least Bucky was in the same position as him. They could figure it out together, even, and it would be fine. But then Bucky flopped down on Steve’s bed one day after school, throwing his backpack on the ground in the mess of Steve’s clothes and paper that had piled up on his floor, and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. Steve sat down in his chair, resisting the urge to swivel anxiously back and forth in it. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked when Bucky didn’t say anything; he had been acting strange all day and he’d began to get anxious. 

“I got a letter,” Bucky mumbled, voice low and calculated, though clearly not happy. He didn’t look at Steve, eyes remained trained up and away from any chance of eye contact. “From a college.”

Steve’s chest had suddenly gotten tight, and he swallowed down a little lump forming in his throat. “a college?” Steve repeated dumbly, and Bucky had just nodded. 

“It’s a full ride. It’s a good college. Whatever I want to go into, I guess.”

Steve stared, unblinking. Bucky had always been smart, he’d had a wit sharper than his own sometimes and school work had been his domain. Bucky deserved all of these opportunities, earned them too. He’d made himself from when he had just been a kid. His dad had been a drunk and his mother became distant, Bucky had been a bit mentally delayed for a few years, due to some kind of neglect or another, and of course he’d had to learn how to live without and then with a prosthetic arm, when the school finally paid for Bucky to get one. Bucky hadn’t talked for the first three weeks Steve had known him, so yeah, Bucky had made leaps and bounds in life, so he couldn’t figure out why he felt so sour. 

“What would you do?”

Bucky shrugged awkwardly against the bed. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have an idea?”

“No, not really,” Bucky had stayed quiet for a while, then. When he spoke up again, he sounded defeated. “Math, maybe?” 

Steve had nodded, because Bucky was good at math. He got numbers better than anyone, even their teacher. It had never made Bucky happy though, Steve thought. “Would you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Being like, a math teacher?” Steve shrugged and Bucky finally looked at him. 

“Stevie,” Bucky sighed, and he rubbed his eyes briefly. “I don’t wanna be a math teacher. I don’t wanna go to school and stare at numbers.”

Steve swallowed. “What do you want to do?”

“Dunno,” Bucky sighed, pulling himself up so he was sitting, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and letting them dangle. “I don’t have any idea.”

Steve nodded, though he couldn’t quite tell where the conversation was headed. 

“I oughta take the opportunity though, right?”

“Yeah, guess so,” Steve had said softly and then fell quiet.

“I don’t wanna get stuck doing something I hate, or something I’ll get bored with. I can’t be like Natahsa, I can’t be a- can’t be in business or something boring like that, but this opportunity isn’t gonna wait.”

Steve nodded and rocked in his chair awkwardly. “How’d you even get the scholarship?” 

“Guess from my test scores and shit,” Bucky said, shrugging. “Said my scores looked real good.”

“Where would you be going?” Steve asked then, feeling a tug of panic. Bucky didn’t answer and Steve swallowed. “Buck?”

Bucky pulled his cigarettes out of his coat pocket and even though Steve hated the smell, hated when Bucky smoked in his room, he didn’t say anything and watched him light it, pulling a long drag from it. “New Jersey.”

Steve sighed. “That isn’t bad,” he mumbled, even though it felt bad. “That’s only about two hours, right?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“So we could still visit each other,” Steve said, more for himself than Bucky.

“I don’t want to move to New Jersey, though,” Bucky sighed, letting the cigarette dangle from his lips. “I’ve lived here my whole life, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve knew Bucky could never pay for college another way either, though.

“What about you?”

“What?”

“What are you gonna do?” Bucky asked, and Steve realized they had been avoiding this conversation. 

“Dunno.”

“You got no idea?”

“I don’t have your test scores, Buck,” Steve said bitterly. “I don’t have interest in that stuff.”  
“What about your art?” Bucky asked, looking at Steve’s desk which was piled high with sketches. 

“Whatta ‘bout it?” Steve asked, pushing his chair to block the desk.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s good, you’re always doodlin’ and stuff, go for that, art doesn’t count test scores, right?”

“I don’t have the money to waste it on an art degree.”

“Wouldn’t be a waste. You actually have something you like, something that means something to you.”

“It’s a waste if you aren’t gonna make any money,” Steve huffed and Bucky shrugged.

“Fuck money.”

“I need it to get my meds and, you know, survive.” 

Bucky snorted and waved a hand at him, taking another drag. “Yeah, well, fuck the whole system.”

Steve shook his head and kicked his shoes off. “Seriously though, you gotta figure this out, you’ve got a killer opportunity.” Steve said, but he didn’t mean it, not really. He would rather have Bucky stay right in Brooklyn and never do anything that separated them.

“That I have nothing to use it on,” Bucky reminded. “I don’t want to waste this, but fuck, Stevie, I don’t have anything going for me, here.”

“Science?”

“Worst subject,” Bucky wrinkled his nose.

“Uh, history?”

“Dead people, awesome.”

“Bucky,” Steve groaned. “Come on.”

“I’m serious,” Bucky grumbled. “I was good at school, I didn’t like it.”

“Okay, what about something like, computer centered, you like video games.”

“Hate computers, pc sucks ass.”

Steve rolled his eyes so hard his head hurt. “You’re impossible.”

Bucky shrugged and put his cigarette out on his prosthetic.

“You really don’t wanna do this, do you?”

“Not really, but I’m not gonna be like my mom and I’m sure as hell not gonna be like my dad,” Bucky shrugged and Steve nodded, he understood. Bucky had always had this fear that he would turn out like his father, drunk or too tired to do anything with his life. Bucky would never be like his father, but he still worried. 

“Okay, so maybe take a few different classes, just… test things out?”

“Can I do that?”

“Why not? They’re paying for it.”

Bucky nodded and smiled, finally. “Okay, thanks Steve, really,’ Bucky said, getting off the bed. “I guess I better go tell my mom, huh?”

“Yeah, go tell her,” Steve grinned as Bucky clapped him on the shoulder and left Steve’s bedroom. Once he was alone again, a wave of nausea washed over him. He didn’t want him to go, and now that was exactly what Bucky was doing.


End file.
